


The Annoying Prince Of Vere (Not That, The Other One)

by L_C_Weary



Series: Kastor of Akielos [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Bad Flirting, Everyone Is Alive, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Slavery, Softer Kastor, Swearing, Vere And Akielos Are Not Enemies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_C_Weary/pseuds/L_C_Weary
Summary: Kastor didn't get Damen's infatuation with the young Prince of Vere. The older one was a bit better, in his opinion.





	The Annoying Prince Of Vere (Not That, The Other One)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [veretianblue (clptr)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clptr/gifts).



> This is my Captive Prince Secret Santa Gift for the wonderful, one and only veretianblue. I was so excited they wanted Kauguste (yes, I like this shipname), I was already on the verge of writing one and bumm, for request it's not even angsty. I had fun writing this, if you have half as much fun reading it I will be so-so happy. Enjoy!
> 
> Keep in mind, English is not my first language. My beta was the still amazing [Sophieistrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophieistrash). She's literally the best.

Kastor didn't get Damen's infatuation with the young Prince of Vere.

In the past, it came natural to Kastor to envy anything and everything his brother had, friends, lovers, adoration. He knew it was childish, but he actually tried to fight his own mind when he wanted to claim Lykaios with his kisses or wanted Nikandros to joke with him. Craving his father's approval was already a lost cause, even before Kastor tried to impress him with anything.

But as he - hopefully - matured, he saw things more clearly. He could see the appeal of the blond kid, but he was actually a kid to Kastor. For twenty-one-year-old Damen, the sixteen-year-old Laurent was not such an infant but to Kastor he was. It was what gave him a clear head when seeing the Veretian prince.

Laurent of Vere was all kinds of awful. Kastor had to give it to him, he had his style and his humor, but he was bitchy, cold and toyed with Damen as he pleased. Damen even seemed to enjoy these plays.

Kastor voiced his concerns for Damen's sanity -  _you would trust him to push you off a cliff, Damen -_  but no one seemed to see it the same way as he did. According to everyone - the king, the queen, even Kastor’s own mother - Prince Laurent was actually a good addition as Damen's list of unconquered love interests. That was a short list, being the crown prince Damen could have anyone he desired, but for once he was working to win someone's heart, instead of smiling at them once and expecting them to spread their legs.

Because they were  _courting_  each other. It was the most ridiculous thing Kastor had ever seen, even though as the secondary prince, he did a lot of stupid diplomatic meetings. And everyone was talking about that. Like how adorable and perfect it was. Kastor was waiting for the day he couldn't handle it anymore and was going to vomit on someone, who said shits like that.

The Veretian Prince visited every summer since he was fifteen. Kastor slowly, extremely slowly got used to him. It helped that Kastor, himself, wasn't too welcomed in the palace. No one would've said it to him in his eyes, but Theomedes always sent him away whenever he could and he knew he was  _too harsh_ or whatever for the queen too.

In his thirty years of living Kastor, finally, started to learn how not to give a shit about the fucking court of Ios. All the arrogant pure blooded men and women of the court were pretty fucking sure he, himself was abomination and to their credit Kastor in his later years did nothing to prove them wrong. He did his job dutifully, tried to keep his mouth shut, but he was not a servant of the king, he never signed to fall to his knees at every given order Theomedes sent at his direction.

He was kind of left in peace. He liked most part of his job, negotiating and making profitable compromises which infuriated the king at first sight until he had to admit it was smart. Not that he ever did. He made a spectacle out of teaching lessons to the grown up Kastor, which he never gave Damen.

He spent most of his time in Sicyon on his own land, rarely giving thought to family or love. He kept his slave, Kallias, for some time to fulfill his duties as a slave, but after Kallias fell in love with Damen's bed-warmer it was unnerving, so he was promoted to servant status. He knew, of course, that he owned Kallias nothing but there was something satisfying about getting Damen's favorite slave just to give it to someone else. He asked for Erasmus on one of his birthdays and he made a dramatic spectacle about reuniting the friends.

The boys, again, were there for him, both of them and others if he really would've wanted it, but getting older he got dizzy with discomfort thinking about finding bodily pleasure in slaves. Seeing Kallias and Erasmus, acting like humans not just submissive toys, it felt iffy to touch the two of them, for example, knowing they were so into each other. The whole thing was weird, he even had to give permission to them to be together. It was really disturbing.

Later even Jokaste offered her hand. Out of pity. He used all his willpower not to shout profanities at her. He wanted a lot of things from his life but pity was definitely not one of them. Jokaste calmly pointed out the importance of having a family - not that he was not aware that his lands would be the king’s again if he had no child to inherit it - but he just didn't find himself to be a man of love. Or marriage.

He was pretty sure he loved Jokaste once, but that ended. There was also a Vaskian girl he fancied but she turned him down, rather rudely. So his loss of interest might have been also something that made him tired with Damen and his constant stream of letters concerning Laurent.

Of course no one cared, he didn't want to be there when the Veretian delegation arrived this year, _he had to be there_. Kastor after three decades, started to lose the fight he had in himself and just gathered himself for the boring ceremonies.

* * *

"Which one?" Kastor was reading a book that was just left on Damen's table. It was some Veretian adventure novel, with complex language but sloppy plot. "Kastor!"

He looked up, trying hard to look interested. Damen was standing in front of him holding two belts up. Kastor looked between the two, one was brown, while the other was the same earthy shade.

"I really don't know," he gave an honest answer. Damen let out a frustrated sigh.

"Do you even pay attention to me?" his brother asked. Kastor threw the book to the table, rather carelessly, it threatened to slide to the other side of it before falling off. For seconds they watched in awe it balancing on the edge of the table.

"Of course. Your courting of Prince Laurent have been successful so far but you are worried he might end this relationship," he gestured vaguely at Damen and his belts," if you don't wear a belt that satisfies his needs. Am I correct?"

"It's important to me." Kastor gritted his teeth. Damen said it like it was a reason he should give his undivided attention to the matter. Because it was  _important_  to Damen. "Prince Auguste will also be here," he said fidgeting with the belts, before throwing one into his wardrobe.

"Are you worried you chose the wrong blond?"

"Kastor," Damen said faking disappointment. "Do you have no romance in your heart? According to Laurent Auguste wants to make sure I'm suitable to his little brother." Kastor snorted. He would have grey in his hair if he wanted to make sure every lover of Damen's was suitable for him.

"He is most likely toying with you again. You'll be a king one day," he said in a way of justification.

"Being king doesn't equal an honest heart," he said putting on the chosen belt. He, then, gestured for Kastor to get up.

"It sure doesn't," he said trailing after Damen. The corridor was busy enough for Damen not give him a speech but he gave him a look. It was like a puppy furrowing his brows. He saw Damen when he fought or was acting ruthless, but this was very far from it.

"Father has his own way o- Hey, do you think Veretians like begonias?" Damen got distracted looking at a servant carrying a giant plant of what must be the mentioned flowers in one of the inner gardens.

Kastor still looking at the corridor, decided to humor Damen.

"I don't know, let's ask one. Prince Laurent," he said loud enough for Laurent, and another man, presumably Auguste to hear it at the other side of the hall they were to enter. They must have arrived earlier. "Your Highness, how do you feel about begonias?" he asked as he grabbed a stunned Damen and started to pull him in the princes's direction.

The Veretians looked somewhat similar. Two tall, blond man, one a bit more a soldier like, soft features, blue eyes and a posture of an unmovable statue, dressed in blue and gold jackets with ornamental laces. The older, Auguste was untouchable thanks to his inherited aura of authority, Laurent was more distant and closed off, but it was the same blood running in the two man.

It was ridiculous how Damen's face lit up, upon seeing them.

"Laurent, Auguste," Kastor bowed his head slightly. In a people filled hall, it was not the time for formalities. He already met the Veretian crown prince a handful of years ago at some important ceremony. He let these kind of liberties to himself all the time, in his younger years just to mess with Theomedes, and back at home old habits resurfaced.

Damen true to himself, instead of greeting them verbally took Laurent's hand and kissed it. It was funny to watch, Laurent struggling to keep his cold mask but blushing still.

"Prince Kastor, I assume," took Auguste the word as his brother got occupied. Kastor turned to the smooth voice.

"Intelligence runs in the family, I see," said Kastor. He felt three pair of eyes burning into his face, but he was only dealing with Auguste. It was a long moment, until the crown prince smiled, a fake smile, not trying to make it look real.

"For the sake of Damianos, let's hope attitude isn't in yours," he said with a small, self-satisfied smile. It was similar to Laurent's but a bit more honest, a bit more charming. Kastor still wanted to punch him and his weird Veretian accent.

"Yes, Prince Auguste," tried Damen to save the situation, "this is my brother, Kastor."

"We met a few years ago," the Veretian crown prince said, still looking at Kastor half hostile, half playful. No, he wasn't like his brother. He wasn't tricks, but he was the bitchiness. Kastor was a bit surprised the golden prince remembered him.

"I do not feel strongly about begonias," the weird moment broken by Laurent, acting like he had no idea why Kastor would ask him that. He was looking at Damen. Kastor frowned seeing his brother smile so stupidly. They were so gone for each other, it wasn't even funny anymore.

"So it's always like this?" asked Auguste in a conversational tone. His voice was softer now. Kastor wasn't sure why they were communicating still but he nodded. "Then I hope I can find a partner in you for bearing them." Kastor out of sheer stubbornness didn't make a face. He wanted nothing more than to listen to some arrogant Veretian blond complain about the gigantic obstacles life put in their way. Like combs or whatnot. 

* * *

Prince Auguste gave no shits about what Kastor wanted. Maybe for the sake of annoying him, or getting some information out of him about Damen - or he was just an asshole truly - he actually looked for Kastor's company.

It must've been something like a bet with or a payback to Laurent or Damen. He wanted to go on Kastor's nerves in order to show it to someone. And the prince worked for it, real hard.

The ceremonies and the official greeting of the Veretians were nothing out of the ordinary, Kastor was bored out of his mind, which was clearly showing on his face because Prince Auguste stroked up a conversation.

It looked pretty innocent. He asked about the wines first, Kastor answered fairly friendly, then he asked about Akielon idioms he didn't know - or at least pretended he didn't, his ego probably didn't let him ask actual questions.

Later, when Kastor drank enough to tell longer stories about the Akielon culture, Prince Auguste used the situation to make the girls swooning over him wait for his undivided attention as he rejected a few offers of dancing to talk to Kastor, but he seemed content to look at those pretties from the corner of his eyes. He later did dance with those girls.

It wasn't the worst night ever. He avoided talking with his father in a manner that made the king angry, so that was a plus. Damen seemed content, Laurent was being a little shit, so he probably had the time of his life making the Akielon court gasp and faint reacting to everything he said.

"I think I love him," said Damen softly to Kastor, eyes big as plates, after his sixth cup.

"You  _think_?" Kastor didn't hide the incredulity from his voice. "We should've gifted Laurent a necklace with a mirror on it so you could see yourself, when you look at him."  Damen laughed, chuckled even.

"He captured my heart, brother," he said, voice emotional. Kastor had no desire to hear any of those Laurent stories again. Damen told him four anyway.

Prince Auguste caught him when he was fleeing the ballroom. The Veretian acted irritably casual.

"Your brother shares a lot more with you than mine," he said, which was maybe a reaction seeing the two Akielon princes talk or something. Kastor couldn’t follow it anymore.

"Why the fuck would Laurent share things with me?" Kastor was drunk. He was aware of that. Auguste looked at him funny, before laughing at him. He was graceful even in his laughing.

"I might have used the wrong conjugation, I meant that Laurent is a lot more private about his relationship with Damen, than Damen seems," he explained. That little shit was fishing for compliment about his great knowledge of Akielon conjugation. Kastor felt like throwing up. The weirdly dancing lights in Auguste's hair weren't helping either.

"It must be really hard for you," Kastor debated whether it was worth starting a war with Vere over one arrogant blond, "worrying for such a young sibling," he finished, diplomatically.

"Yes, it is," he smiled, like he was in a theater farce being the boring charming prince character. "I believe I will always fear for Laurent's happiness," he said looking to the distance, maybe looking for his brother in the crowd.

Kastor 'hmmned'.

"I'm not questioning your fights either," Auguste turned to him, sky blue eyes soft, melting in the torch light. "I know of my brother's difficult nature," he said, almost apologetically.

Kastor didn't answer. It seemed he should've been paying attention. But the light glinting in Auguste's hair was really an interesting thing. He had good coloring, with his wine colored lips and pale skin hinted with red in the warmness of the room.

"I hope he wasn't such a burden," Auguste said looking for Kastor’s gaze, as Kastor was squinting and sizing him up. Auguste did paint the illusion of regular training. It must've been an illusion. He was Veretian, he was supposed to be devious in speech not in strength.

"If he's anyone's burden it's Damen's. But he seems to dwell on it with pleasure," he gestured towards them, where Damen was trying hard to make Laurent blush or the other way around. Auguste chuckled like Kastor just told a joke. Kastor thought he was funny, but no one seemed to share this opinion. Damen said he was humorous but a bit too offensive. Kastor thought everyone was just too damn sensitive.

"We must not put a stop to their pleasure then," Auguste suggested raising his cup like it was a toast worthy sentence. Kastor, as he was on the verge of slipping away had no cup on him anymore. Auguste used this to drag him back to the table. Kastor avenged it by suggesting they drink griva, but it backfired almost immediately.

Kastor, instead of a good night's sleep or fucking a pretty and not too spineless slave, was stuck listening to Auguste half-crying complaint about Laurent probably not even loving him anymore, of Laurent growing up, of things which he probably wasn't supposed to know about King Aleron as well as gossips concerning Auguste Prince's Guard.

Kastor was a good diplomat and as one he never underestimated the power of alcohol, but he swore to the all-mighty gods he would never give tipsy Veretians griva anymore.

* * *

Kastor almost got to like the Veretians about the time they were about to leave. This fact alone, might have helped a bit. Prince Laurent was entertaining in those moment when he was messing with Damen or Auguste, and as Laurent was not interested in Kastor that much, he could laugh at them in peace.

The little Veretian sometimes even dragged Kastor into his schemes, which was almost fun. At other occasions the older Veretian dragged him into his own schemes about making his little brother or Kastor's little brother annoyed. It was a whole lot of dragging, scheming and annoyance.

Prince Auguste got better as days, then later as seasons went by. He was the same when it came to bragging - at every hunt, he made sure Kastor knew what he hunted down, very often just before Kastor killed that specific boar, Auguste wanted to steal.

But at least he had similar system of values. He honored strength and progress, saw how what Kastor did was worthy of listening too. Auguste's only reason for not being to close with Damen was the fact, Damen wanted to bed his little brother. Otherwise both of them were made of the same kind of naive happiness. Auguste tried to hide it, being the crown prince he wanted to look serious, something Damen hardly cared about.

So, spending time with Auguste, in retrospective was always a good choice, but living it could be quite exhausting.

For example, at the Veretians third visit that featured Auguste too, the older Veretian finally suggested a duel. Kastor thought Auguste would want to fight Damen for honor reasons, but Auguste sought Kastor's sword, as he said it.

Kastor wanted to dismiss him, he wanted to feel superior enough to just tell him no, to tell him it was childish, but Auguste couldn't shut up.

"Oh, getting frightened?" he asked, that little cheeky shit. The enclosed garden they were standing in held a small audience for Auguste and his stupidity. "Such a great Akielon warrior would never bow down to a Veretian, would he?" He was smiling so wild, it was comical. Kastor still controlled himself, not ripping his sword out of its scabbard. "The great Akielon would make the Veretian bow, wouldn't he?"

Someone chuckled behind them. Kastor closed his eyes. Innuendoes, just what this day needed.

He knew why it would've been beneficial to see a Veretian and an Akielon fight. It was a friendly display of strength, knowing both of them knew how to swing a sword, no one was going to get too embarrassed, if it weren't for Auguste, who wanted to show his unbelievable skills to some girl or something like that, as he usually did.

"Come on," smirked Auguste, spinning his sword with an elegant motion of his wrist. "I must not be a match for you, mustn’t I?"

Kastor tried to stay calm, then Auguste raised his eyebrows at him and Kastor murmured a  _fuck it,_ and pulled his sword out. Damen looked at him, eyes filled with worry and pleading.

"He wants to make a fucking spectacle out of me too," Kastor said to Damen as an explanation. "I'm not going to let him."

"Brother," started Damen, stepping next to him, "I don't think he's trying to embarrass yo-"

"Well, he fucking won't," Kastor said vehemently.

"I think," tried Damen again, "he's flir-"

"He's so going to get it," said Kastor with conviction. He riled himself up now, so Auguste was going to get a taste of his own medicine of self-satisfaction.

"What will the winner get?" asked Laurent, enjoying himself.

"Pride," answered Kastor, without thinking in unison with Auguste's answer:  _kindness._  It was a ridiculous answer from the Veretian, nothing surprising as such.

Auguste was smiling wide, like he was having the time of his life. Kastor marched up to him and without further ado stroke down. Auguste was quick enough to get his sword up in time, but he didn't waver, his smile radiant as ever.

Kastor, since his early teenage years, worked hard on keeping his violent emotions at bay, trying to let them out or let them go. His winding down of choice was sword-fighting and as he had a lot of frustration, he was a fucking seasoned soldier not a palace puppy wielding a sword.

Kastor remembered all of the anger, sometimes he feared he didn't just remember but still had it in him. Something similar was clawing at his throat. He was good, he knew, he was good at a very few things he did keep a fucking catalog, so it was infuriating how much better Auguste was.

It felt like his whole fucking world was collapsing. He wasn't a kid anymore, he knew he didn't have to be a fucking war hero or the best at something to be worthy of whatever he fought so hard for but it didn't help.

It wasn't a short match, it was a hard won victory but he lost. He lost his sword and his chest was heaving with deep seated fury and futility. He felt belittled and he knew it was stupid, he knew it was awful and ugly and it was silly jealousy but it hurt like a motherfucker.

The air around them wasn't tense anymore, the world wasn't stopping. Damen, Laurent and the others - Kastor didn't even care who - clapped politely and Auguste went to pick up Kastor's sword. Good, another way to make him feel inferior. To make him feel useless. Good, fucking good. His throat was closing in and his breath was lacking actual air.

He reached for his sword blindly when the Veretian approached, so it was a surprise having Auguste's fingers curl around his, as their hands met at the hill of the sword.

"I have never met a better fighter than you," the Veretian said quietly, his eyes, his sky blue eyes, glinting at him with honesty. No one heard it but Kastor, it wasn't for the audience, it wasn't a proof of the Veretian's fairness. He said it like it was the truth.

"You won," he said words choked on shame. Auguste tilted his head sideways, like Kastor was acting silly.

"It wasn't luck yet it wasn't without strain either." Auguste voice wasn't filled with pity or disdain. It was like he meant what he was saying.

It meant something. To Kastor, he felt like it meant so much his heart was going to burst. Auguste still not letting his hand go, pulled Kastor closer and embraced him, like they were old friends.

It was awkward, Kastor felt uncomfortable for seconds, but he gingerly put his hand around Auguste and squeezed him lightly.

When they let each other go, Auguste was looking at him like only Kastor mattered at the enclosed garden, a small, not braggy smile spreading on his face. He looked true and unbelievable as such.

Kastor didn't feel anger or shame or fear. He felt something different.

* * *

It was wonderful to wake up to violent knocking, then a door getting thrown open. Kallias, usually, was rather soft, as he knew Kastor was not a morning person, but not this time.

This morning, the young man was trying to catch his breath, bending in half, leaning against the door to get himself together, after marching into his room like a war messenger.

"Who died?" asked Kastor with a certain resignation of his early morning calmness.

"Crown... Prince... Heavens, Auguste of-," he fought with breathlessness.

"Shit, did he really?" Kastor got out of the bed in seconds, suddenly feeling dizzy.

"No, he is... He is here," said Kallias and almost collapsed. Kastor let out a sigh, a relieved one, then frowned.

He offered his hospitality once for the prince and now he was disturbing his household and him at early morning. So typical.

Prince Auguste was, indeed, in the hall of his manor, in his travel attire. Kastor was disgusted with himself for recognizing attributes of Veretian fashion. He didn't look lost at all, he was looking around curiously, gingerly touching a column like it was something so out of the ordinary.

"Auguste," he tore the prince out of his wondering. "What can I own you for such a pleasant surprise?" he said, not hiding the dry tone of his voice. The Veretian turned his direction and smiled, with his particular smile that lit up the whole room, it was so radiant.

"I have a meeting with some Patran border lords, thought give you a visit," he said like they were friends who did stuff like this.

"You could've messaged first," he said. It wasn't such a burden, he wasn't truly mad at Auguste, but still. He had the opportunity to correct Auguste, he was going to use it.

"Why? Did you have no time to put on your formal chiton?" Auguste asked with a smirk. Kastor rolled his eyes at him.

"I can offer you breakfast, if you have time," he said. Kastor like his solitude at his land, when he wasn't having a diplomatic meeting, but he came to favor Auguste's company. The Veretian had his redeeming qualities.

"I have already said it, I'm meeting with some Patran border lord," he looked at him with seriousness, "I have all the time in the world."

"King Aleron would be proud to hear that," Kastor commented, while gesturing to Kallias in the corner - who was still trying for rhythmical breathing - to wake the kitchen.

"Name one Patran who is punctual." Kastor snorted.

"You, Veretians, just enjoy arriving at any time but the given date," he commented. Now, it was Auguste's turn to roll his eyes, he looked graceful, even doing something childish like that.

"Come, I'll show you the garden, I like to have breakfast outside, if the weather lets me," offered Kastor.

"Wait," Auguste turned back to his chest of things he brought inside. "I got a gift for you," he started rummaging through it. Kastor looked at August’s back a bit incredulously. He could come up with no reason why Prince Auguste would bring him a gift.

"Here," he turned to Kastor. He was holding a small box with a golden thread on it. 

Kastor took it gingerly, looking suspiciously at Auguste. The golden prince smiled at him again. It was a soft, warm, friendly smile.

In the box, which he opened, with knowing that Auguste was watching him, he found another box. Kastor was a bit fazed. He felt like he didn't get something about the whole deal. But Auguste was patient, Kastor had time to open that one too.

The box was deep and had square shaped holes, which held paper rolls, one each.

"Document holder, for the greatest diplomat of your country," Auguste patted Kastor on his shoulder.

"It wasn't a big competition," he said, just a matter of fact. No one knew how to hold a conversation in the Akielon court without acting like something a Veretian prince would call a beast. “Thank you.” Auguste shrugged like it meant nothing.

"Victory is still victory," said Auguste and Kastor let himself show a small smile.

Kastor, didn't ask why but Auguste ate like he hadn't in days. Very elegantly, but tried everything with a long comment on all the things he had never tasted before. Just looking at him gave a man appetite.

Auguste, when he had no one but himself to prove he was a Veretian noble was a lot more fun to be with. He talked without the hint of arrogance, he didn't want to impress his little brother, he didn't want to look frightening for Damen. Auguste actually acted like he wanted company not just audience.

The breakfast, which lasted almost two hours - the Veretian really wanted to prolong his Patran meeting - was pleasant. Auguste talked about annoying  Veretians customs connecting to breakfast - which was also a thing, Veretians were mad – and he asked Kastor about his family, very politely just about his mother and brother.

Auguste left at almost lunch time with glinting eyes, but expression already of a good diplomat as they said their farewells. Auguste promised to be back in a few days when he would be finished with the Patrans. Kastor didn't invite him exactly, but he didn't mind Auguste being there. It was something of a habit of theirs nowadays.

* * *

Kastor liked his job, going around the world and arguing for the sake of something that was actually important. He saw all of Vere, Vask, Kempt, Patras, almost any place he wanted to see was now in his memories too. However the main point people liked to be ambassadors, in his experience, were the way they were treated at foreign places.

As they were the symbol of their own monarch and country their hosts gave them gifts and hospitality, wines, slaves, promises all around.

That part Kastor could hardly stand. Overenthusiastic generosity always made him question if there was a reason they wanted to spoil him with feasts and gifts. And when his suspicion was raised he couldn't let himself relax and it ruined his mood and the whole meeting too.

That's why he, in the past, liked to go to Vere. They were hostile enough for it to be charming, in a sense. It was a different kind of entertaining good now, Auguste, when he was at home, treated him as a friend, Kastor now got used to believing Auguste was nice to him, because that's how his heart worked.

For example arriving a few days earlier at Arles for the annual celebration of the friendship between their nations wasn't a burden. There were less formalities and more Auguste to greet him, with his bright smile.

"Kastor!" greeted him Auguste with a friendly hug, not caring for the looks they were given. They should have painted a certain image - where they were serious and professional - but Auguste hugged him instead. Kastor reluctantly went with it.

Kastor made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat while patting the Veretian on the back.

"Don't look so excited," Auguste said leading him to his regular guest room. "You have no idea what kind of fest the court planned. They want to make sure it's better than any of the things you Akielons held."

"Typical," murmured Kastor. "Must make a competition out of everything."

"Says the man, who can't stand if he is not the best in something," Auguste grinned at him.

"Bold of you to say that," Kastor said in a dark tone.

"Don't be like that," Auguste asked him. "Do you want me to stroke your ego?"

"No, I'm fine," he deflected Auguste and his cheeky smile.

"When's Damen arriving? With the delegation? Laurent won't tell me," Auguste frowned.

"Did you earn his fury again?" asked Kastor smirking.

"I think I made him angry by joking about Damen. It wasn't offensive," he said quickly, not to hurt Kastor or his feelings.

"Was it an inappropriate joke about his size compared to Laurent’s?"

"Oh, my-! No," he made a disgusted face.

"People at the Akielon court do that," shrugged Kastor.

"This is so bad," Auguste shook his head in his pain. "So, your brother?"

"Damen is to arrive in three days," Kastor knew not without reason. "He will ask for Laurent's hand," Kastor said. Auguste sighed.

"Is it going to be emotional?" asked the Veretian with long suffering face. Kastor looked at him, disbelieving.

"Have you  _met_  my brother?"

"Okay, we need a plan," Auguste leaned closer, making it impossible for his guards to hear them. "Is he worse when drunk?"

"Yes, definitely," Kastor said, almost getting tangled in blond hair. Auguste's locks tickled his face. "But, alternatively, more funny. I believe he has a speech to Laurent, then if he accepts him," he recited the last twenty letters Damen sent him, "he'll turn to your father, and if he says yes, he has a grand gesture planned with a golden jewelry of some sort," he said, looking in Auguste's eyes. Those were laughing with warm honesty.

"Laurent might say no, just to mess with him," Auguste said with great humor.

"Damen might cry, then." Kastor knew how his brother could lay his heart bare and then get hurt, because he couldn't think outside of his own point of view. "He'll bare it, he's a big boy," tried to reassure himself in his sudden worry.

Auguste threw an arm around Kastor.

"Don't fear for your brother's heart. Laurent will know his plan, yet it won't stop him from getting actually touched," he patted Kastor on his chest, where it was not covered by his chiton. 

"Will  _you_  be reduced to tears?" he asked Auguste.

"Shut up."

* * *

"I'm nervous," said Damen with a small smile that did look forced. Kastor didn't want to roll his eyes. They were standing just outside the ball room, while the whole Veretian royal family was waiting for them inside.

"He loves you, you know that too," Kastor tried to sound sensible. It was sensible, but Damen needed more than that. "There's no reason - political or emotional or whatever - for him to reject you, because he loves you. Aleron likes you, so you shouldn't worry about that either," he patted Damen on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring.

"Alright," said Damen straightening his back. He still looked frightened but determined at the same time. "Thanks, Kastor," he turned to him, voice softening again.

"Shut the fuck up and go inside, they're waiting for us," he gestured towards the ball room. Damen grinned and with great, confident steps went to the door then threw it open carelessly, not giving a fuck about the guards at the door. The whole hall turned towards them and as Damen froze Kastor worried he actually lost his courage.

Then Laurent, from the main table, at the end of the hall, smiled at Damen. Kastor stopped worrying at that moment. He was right. Damen was very emotional in his speech and Laurent said yes, surprising no one. He said yes after a few borderline crude words, which also was something even Kastor counted on, but those broke the overly emotional scene and made the situation lighthearted.

Damen became a glowing ball of happiness after that, he lifted the mood into the skies. At the feast the Veretian courtiers and the Akielon delegation started gossiping like madmen, some claiming they already knew, some saying they even knew merchants and florists who were already hired, some said the little Veretian prince was just toying with Damen, some said Damen just lusted after Laurent's features.

Damen very enthusiastically came to Kastor to tell him personally that Laurent did say yes, not that he was also present. For once Kastor forced his satiric comments down and just congratulated.

Kastor started the night at the Akielon delegation's table, but after two hours and a persuasive Auguste's nice blue eyes, he ended up at the master table sharing bottle after bottle with the emotional drunk Auguste. The Veretian drank and cried into Kastor's shoulder about his little brother growing up, then he went dancing with Akielon girls, sweating out some of the alcohol.

After that Auguste talked to Laurent not letting him go and the annoyance which was written on his brother's face told everything. When another wave of dancers hit the marble dance floor, Damen asked Laurent to dance and it became a formal, magical something.

Auguste retreated to his seat next to Kastor and they watched the crowd dance, orbiting around the main couple, the beautiful princes of Vere and Akielos.

It was nice. Being happy for Damen, not worrying about anything, just relaxing.

Auguste had an arm around Kastor's shoulder, pulling him towards himself. Auguste's body was radiating warmth and Kastor, in the cold Veretian ball chamber found it more than pleasant. He was wearing appropriate clothing, not a chiton, because he had no intention of getting a cold, but he miscalculated the amount of layers the situation would need.

It was cosy, leaning against Auguste, drinking Veretian overly scented wine, laughing at his drunk brother trying to dance with Laurent, who constantly tried to repress his smile and disappointment.

Kastor was enjoying himself, which surprised him the most.

"Do you want to bet," whispered Auguste in his ear, which made Kastor shiver, from the sudden ticklish sensation, "if Damen falls into the cake first or pushes the giant torch?" he asked.

Kastor turned his face to Auguste's which was suddenly very close. Their noses brushed. He blinked a few times to get his vision to focus on Auguste’s eyes. They were really close. Kastor tried no to breath out of Auguste's mouth, so he decided not to breathe at all. It would’ve been a shame to disturb the moment. Auguste looked beautiful with rosy cheeks and dark blue eyes. Those were darker than usual, it was like the deep sea from the cliffs of Ios.

All the noises seemed distant now, somehow Auguste and his hand that was now in Kastor's hair, not on his shoulder, was overwhelming everything else. Their noses touched again and Kastor wanted to get away from the whole, half-sided embrace, he needed to moment to break as soon as it was possible, for himself to breathe free, but he couldn't do it.

Auguste, fingers now completely tangled in Kastor's ruins of a ponytail, pushed their foreheads together, which somehow took some of the edge away. A familiar sensation was filling Kastor’s heart, but he couldn’t name it. It just felt nice. It felt true.

Auguste raised his other hand, touching Kastor's cheekbone with his knuckles, following the line of it, caressing him, like Kastor was some delicate creature. Like this is how he should’ve been treated. That shit wasn’t right.

Kastor grabbed Auguste's nape to make him stop in action, to keep him where he was. The Veretian smiled at him, with a smile that said so much. It called Kastor silly and lovable at the same time. Kastor started to fear for his life as he started to hear the drumming for his own heart.

He wanted to kiss Auguste. He, Kastor, who was so proud for not being charmed by Laurent, or not getting fooled by any of the Veretians's game, he was longing to kiss the fucking crown prince of that fucking kingdom. What a fucking pity.

There was a big  _dang_ like noise, than someone screamed.

Kastor, still clutching Auguste and basically sitting in his lap turned away to the source of the noises. It was Damen and the giant torch. He did push it, burning coal spilling to the marble. It wasn't such a disaster, servants were already putting it out, some lords and ladies laughing at the situation.

Kastor felt cold all over, like the giant torch was the only thing keeping him warm. He wanted to leave the room, he needed to leave. He was not someone the Veretian crown prince should be kissing. He knew that, he learned that.

"Excuse me," Kastor pried himself away from Auguste. His side was cold, his face was tingling, legs felt heavy, lungs filled with dampness. It hurt.

* * *

Kastor successfully avoided both of the Veretian princes and his own brother, so far. He spent the day at an annoying gathering in Ver-Vassel, where Vaskian ladies and Veretians courtiers talked about the consequences the harsh weather had on their countries' agriculture.

He had time to think about what he wanted from Auguste, he had time to think about how to tell Laurent not to fuck with Damen, he had all the time in the world as the meeting was boring. He did his fair share of talking and advice giving and still wasn't able to get away to get back to the night's feasts in time. He could already hear the celebration when he was just throwing his travel attire down.

He was a mess, he let his hair out, his chiton was only held by his belt, he had no idea where he put his sword and he was worrying like a teenager about seeing Auguste again, not knowing what to say to him.

When there was knocking on his door he threw it open, quiet vehemently.

It didn't help. It was Auguste standing at the door, eyes questioning, probably Kastor and his messy attire.

"I'm being late, I know, I'm sorry," he said hurriedly, leaving the door open, but he went inside again to get his brush and at least put his hair in order.

"I don't think I ever saw with your hair let out," mused Auguste stepping inside.

"Yes, I know I look like a forest witch gone loose," he went there before the teasing. Auguste chuckled softly.

"It looks good on you."

"Kallias can braid it for me properly," Kastor started to braid it lazily. He could've just put it in a ponytail, but he felt like he needed time before going into the crowd and have stupid conversations again.

"Didn't you bring him with you?" asked Auguste. He, being a regular at Kastor's mansion, knew Kallias.

"I did, but I gave him and his lover a free night. Here no one knows if they are slaves, servants or just commoners." Kallias and his boy both deserved it.

"That's nice of you," said Auguste stepping closer again. Kastor shrugged.

"They deserve it." Then it was silence. Auguste was not leaving, although it was obvious he came to look for Kastor to check why he wasn’t down at the hall already, and now it was not necessary for him to stand there.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Auguste and he was serious. Gods, that's what Kastor wanted to avoid.

"Feel free," he said, like he had no idea what it was about. Auguste smiled, sad and bitter. Kastor willed himself not to look away.

"I just wanted to say that if I offended you with anything," his voice was quiet and it was fucking heartbreaking, "ever, I would like to apologize." His eyes were so sad. Kastor started to really hate this whole shit. He reached for the ends of his chiton to pin it up on his shoulder.

"You didn't," he said trying for reassuring.

"Didn't I?" he asked, voice almost curious. Kastor wanted to say something witty, not stand with his voice lost. Auguste stepped closer again, Kastor refused to step back. He was not fucking afraid.

Auguste came, slowly, to stand inches in front of him. Kastor was not fucking afraid. The Veretian slowly, carefully put one hand on Kastor's cheek, holding his face, thumb caressing him, just like last night. Kastor was not fucking afraid. Auguste pulled the Akielon closer to himself, and Kastor didn’t find it in himself to act against it. Auguste leaned even closer.

Kastor was actually afraid. But not of the kiss, more of its consequences. He was going to fuck that up. Something was going to go unbelievably wrong. He was not in a position to fuck things up with the Veretian crown prince. He was supposed to be the cold-headed one in his family, the one who saw things clearly.

Auguste kissed him. Soft, tentative, careful. Like they were teenage lovers, not knowing how to touch each other. Then he waited, patiently, probably for Kastor to react with words or act, so Kastor kissed him again. With intention, holding Auguste close, trying to stole his breath. If this was the only thing he was going to get from this man, one night with tentative touches and soft brushes of lips, he was going to make the most of it.

"Alright, you are not mad," laughed Auguste, lips brushing against Kastor's, when they parted for air.

"The night's young, you may never know," he joked and Auguste's laugh was the prettiest thing he'd ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> (Find me on [tumblr](http://answermywearyquery.tumblr.com/).)


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